Nu incetez sa am anumite idei macabre care revin. Mereu si mereu si mereu.
De fiecare data cand cobor scarile imi imaginez ca fac o entorsa si cad pe scari, imi fracturez ceva si sfarsesc intr-un pat de spital. Cand trec strada imi imaginez ca o sa fiu spulberata de o masina si ca o sa devin praf de human remains ci nu praf de stele. Not glamorous at all. Mai ales pentru cineva care vrea isi doneze organele. Sick imagination? Maybe.
As I lay here in my bed everything seems so peaceful. it's Sunday the 17 of November, 11 AM.
It's very unusual for me to be in bed at this hour, usually at 6.50 AM I'm up and ready for a brand new day of action and fight (although I hate mornings from the bottom of my heart) . But not today since my body has been defeated by bacterias. yes, I am sick as a dog. it was the candy on the funerary cake. With all the stress that I had lately it was kind of predictable. I haven't sleep all night : the fever made me dance in my bed until exhaustion. I finally felt asleep at 6 AM after changing 4 rounds of p-jas. I asked myself how would it be if I would not wake up? What have I done well and what have I done wrong?
Ma si vedeam la stirile de la ora 5 : "Tanar medic generalist gasit mort in patul sau din cartierul Montagne Verte, Strasbourg. Madalina era plecata de 3 ani in Franta, unde exercisa functia de medic rezident de Medicina generala. Moarte naturala sau... Tanara locuia impreuna cu inca 2 colegi de apartament, care i-au gasit cadavrul in jurul orei 12, cand s-au ingrijorat datorita absentei ei din bucataria animata a apartamentului" (suspans). Probabil ca m-ar fi pus in grila de program undeva intre baba violata si ucisa cu bestialitate de nepotul ei si intre baiatul vreunui grangur local care a omorat/ranit grav vreo 5 oameni pe trecerea de pietoni, pe verde, cum altfel?
Hell, no! I have so much more to give and I have so many places to visit and so many people to meet!
So as I lie here I just enjoy the silence. The appartement seemed deserted. No noise. I imagined myself back to the Caraibes. Floating on a sea of secrets, under the burning sun. Like a pirate! And then I asked myself : what the fuck is wrong with me? How could I let the disease take control over me? I guess I was so exhausted and just at the idea that the holidays are just in one month my body just shut down. The reality is that I can't stand on my feet more than one hour. I like to call it the glass hour. It's the day that I remembered my strenght and my limits. I walked down the limit of my thoughts and there was no place for words. There was no place for regrets and it was definitely no time left for pain or sorrow.
I just floated on my dreams, my sea of dreams. I went through my accomplished dreams and imagined others to come. I felt good. Like this :
Nu stiu cine a avut ideea sa transforme stirile de la ora 5 intr-o parada a grotescului. De ce nu ar putea sa fie stirile de la ora 5 pline de vesti bune, interesante? Sa stim si noi cine a mai castigat o medalie la un concurs, ce carti au mai iesit pe piata, ultimele noutati muzicale de calitate, o decizie buna luata de conducatorii nostrii (pentru moment, o utopie), proteste din suflet si cu suflet, o natiune care se trezeste la viata si devine constienta de resursele ei. Oameni uniti pentru un ideal. No, Sir, why would we talk about that? We like dirt! Sa aruncam cu noroi in vecini, in rude, in politicieni, in medici, sa aratam crime, sa abrutizam natiunea! Si nici in alte tari nu este mai bine, cel putin in Franta este la fel. Nivelul intelectual ar natiunii scade. Non valorile urca. Showuri "pacatoase", detectivi care dezvaluie mizeria de sub pres, taclale de doi bani, banul vorbeste. Iar Omul Macaroana conduce.
As I was lying on my bed, looking at the sea of dreams, I decided to dive 'cause if you never try you'll never know!
As I lay here in my bed everything seems so peaceful. it's Sunday the 17 of November, 11 AM.
It's very unusual for me to be in bed at this hour, usually at 6.50 AM I'm up and ready for a brand new day of action and fight (although I hate mornings from the bottom of my heart) . But not today since my body has been defeated by bacterias. yes, I am sick as a dog. it was the candy on the funerary cake. With all the stress that I had lately it was kind of predictable. I haven't sleep all night : the fever made me dance in my bed until exhaustion. I finally felt asleep at 6 AM after changing 4 rounds of p-jas. I asked myself how would it be if I would not wake up? What have I done well and what have I done wrong?
Ma si vedeam la stirile de la ora 5 : "Tanar medic generalist gasit mort in patul sau din cartierul Montagne Verte, Strasbourg. Madalina era plecata de 3 ani in Franta, unde exercisa functia de medic rezident de Medicina generala. Moarte naturala sau... Tanara locuia impreuna cu inca 2 colegi de apartament, care i-au gasit cadavrul in jurul orei 12, cand s-au ingrijorat datorita absentei ei din bucataria animata a apartamentului" (suspans). Probabil ca m-ar fi pus in grila de program undeva intre baba violata si ucisa cu bestialitate de nepotul ei si intre baiatul vreunui grangur local care a omorat/ranit grav vreo 5 oameni pe trecerea de pietoni, pe verde, cum altfel?
Hell, no! I have so much more to give and I have so many places to visit and so many people to meet!
So as I lie here I just enjoy the silence. The appartement seemed deserted. No noise. I imagined myself back to the Caraibes. Floating on a sea of secrets, under the burning sun. Like a pirate! And then I asked myself : what the fuck is wrong with me? How could I let the disease take control over me? I guess I was so exhausted and just at the idea that the holidays are just in one month my body just shut down. The reality is that I can't stand on my feet more than one hour. I like to call it the glass hour. It's the day that I remembered my strenght and my limits. I walked down the limit of my thoughts and there was no place for words. There was no place for regrets and it was definitely no time left for pain or sorrow.
I just floated on my dreams, my sea of dreams. I went through my accomplished dreams and imagined others to come. I felt good. Like this :
Nu stiu cine a avut ideea sa transforme stirile de la ora 5 intr-o parada a grotescului. De ce nu ar putea sa fie stirile de la ora 5 pline de vesti bune, interesante? Sa stim si noi cine a mai castigat o medalie la un concurs, ce carti au mai iesit pe piata, ultimele noutati muzicale de calitate, o decizie buna luata de conducatorii nostrii (pentru moment, o utopie), proteste din suflet si cu suflet, o natiune care se trezeste la viata si devine constienta de resursele ei. Oameni uniti pentru un ideal. No, Sir, why would we talk about that? We like dirt! Sa aruncam cu noroi in vecini, in rude, in politicieni, in medici, sa aratam crime, sa abrutizam natiunea! Si nici in alte tari nu este mai bine, cel putin in Franta este la fel. Nivelul intelectual ar natiunii scade. Non valorile urca. Showuri "pacatoase", detectivi care dezvaluie mizeria de sub pres, taclale de doi bani, banul vorbeste. Iar Omul Macaroana conduce.
As I was lying on my bed, looking at the sea of dreams, I decided to dive 'cause if you never try you'll never know!
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